


Teach Me Your Numbers

by fififolle



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth - All Media Types
Genre: Attraction, Board Games, Hurt/Comfort, Languages and Linguistics, M/M, Master/Slave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 02:13:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3191471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fififolle/pseuds/fififolle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Esca reacts calmly to Marcus' frustrated tantrum :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teach Me Your Numbers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sineala](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sineala/gifts).



~

Marcus' hand started to shake uncontrollably, and he gripped his fist together, but it made no difference. He felt the anger and frustration building inside him and suddenly he swept the game pieces off the table, watching them bounce off the walls and disappear under the bench.

He looked up from the bare board into Esca's wide eyes, and took a deep breath. “Sorry. I'm sorry.” He flexed his hand.

“Does it hurt?” Esca asked, nodding at his hand, and Marcus was taken aback at Esca's reaction to his tantrum.

“I – No. Sometimes it happens, when my back hurts. If I walk too far, my leg aches and my hand trembles...” He trailed off. He hadn't meant to explain. He didn't have to excuse himself to a slave.

But losing his temper wasn't the kind of man he wanted to be. That hurt more than anything.

Esca just nodded and dropped to his knees on the floor, sweeping the pieces together, and stretching under the bench to reach them all. Marcus just watched, trying not to stare at Esca's bare legs, the sight of his arse in the air.

He swallowed hard, and hoped that Esca would not notice the flush on his cheeks.

But Esca was busy. He climbed back onto his stool, and poured the pile of pieces from his hands onto the table, Then he began to place them one by one into careful piles, muttering under his breath, as if counting.

“Yan, tan, tether, mether...”

Marcus frowned. He'd never heard these words before. “What's what?” he asked sharply.

Esca groaned, rolled his eyes, and pulled the pieces back into one pile. “I'm counting. Hush.”

Marcus blinked. Had his slave just told him to hold his tongue?

“Yan, tan, tether, mether, pip...”

“Counting?” Marcus would not hold his tongue. “What numbers are these?”

“Marcus!” Esca snapped. “Now I have lost count again.” He stretched across the table and placed a finger to Marcus' lips. “I said hush.” He grinned at Marcus, a flash of teeth and defiance, and Marcus loved it, hated it.

Marcus kept quiet this time, his lips tingling where Esca, his impertinent slave, had touched him. He watched, and listened, as Esca counted all the game pieces in his own language, until they were all in neat piles.

“There,” Esca declared. “You did not lose any. Would you like to play again, or do you need to rest?” There was only genuine care in his tone, and Marcus was surprised to find he was not insulted.

This slave of his was an interesting man. A handsome, admirable man.

But he didn't want to play again. “Teach me your numbers,” he asked instead.

Esca looked surprised, and pleased. He nodded. “If you like.”

~


End file.
